


Spoils of War

by Bionerd2Point0



Series: JayTim Week 2020 [7]
Category: Batman - All Media Types
Genre: Alpha Barbara Gordon, Alpha Dick Grayson, Alpha Jason Todd, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alternate Universe - Vikings, Animal Sacrifice, Beta Stephanie Brown, Blood, Day 7 - Vikings, Happy Ending, Jason is very salty, JayTimWeek2020, Language Barrier, Lightly Sugarcoated Viking Culture, M/M, Mild Angst, Mild Gore, Non-Sexual Slavery, Omega Tim Drake, Slavery, Thralls, Viking Culture, Viking Traditions, implied consent issues
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-07
Updated: 2020-06-07
Packaged: 2021-03-04 02:47:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,903
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24516364
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bionerd2Point0/pseuds/Bionerd2Point0
Summary: Jason glares at the blue-eyed warrior, who just grins cheerfully and continues smacking him with that god-forsaken tree branch. As if spending two weeks tied up in the bottom of a ship, shoved into a hellishly hot room, and being stripped weren’t already enough.If the thumb incident means anything, this clan is much different than any he has heard of—and probably not in a good way. Nothing good ever comes from being kidnapped by viking savages.
Relationships: Stephanie Brown & Jason Todd, Tim Drake/Jason Todd
Series: JayTim Week 2020 [7]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1765741
Comments: 25
Kudos: 263
Collections: JayTimWeek





	Spoils of War

**Author's Note:**

> There are a lot of complex things happening here, but the biggest warning is that the POV character believes he is about to be sold into slavery (he is, but it’s not what you think). I sugar-coated some of the cultural aspects of Vikings, but only barely, so there are some mild gore and not-nice things that happen. That said, it does have a happy ending, because I *like* my happy endings!!
> 
> Thank you to Feriswheel for beta-ing this and texting random friends who speak Swedish to help me figure out how to pronounce things (and then decide to not include them XD)
> 
> Enjoy!

Jason glares at the blue-eyed warrior, who just grins cheerfully and continues smacking him with that god-forsaken tree branch. As if spending two weeks tied up in the bottom of a ship, shoved into a hellishly hot room, and being stripped weren’t already enough. 

The viking ship had attacked his village the week earlier, although Jason honestly doesn’t blame them. The local lord had been sending ships north to target their settlements; it was only a matter of time before they retaliated. All in all, the battle had surprisingly few casualties, but this group had shocked them all by going around and removing the thumbs of all the warriors afterwards. It had been brutal, with Jason only being spared because the blue-eyed  _ bastard _ had caught sight of the streak in his hair and decided to just fucking  _ take _ him instead.

He doesn’t know the intricacies of this particular clan—no one had bothered to try and speak to him after they left the village, and while the other captive had been chatty, she didn't know any more than he did. He didn’t really know Stephanie; before this mess, he had only seen her in passing since she worked as a stablehand. He regrets meeting under such circumstances.

It doesn't really matter either way. Nothing good ever comes from being kidnapped by viking savages. If the thumb incident means anything, this clan is much different than any he has heard of—and probably not in a good way.

The blue-eyed warrior says something in that infernal language of theirs, gesturing Jason towards the door leading outside. He’s fought every step of the way thus far, but the room is so hot he feels like he’s being cooked alive. Jason is more than okay with doing anything to just get out faster.

The crisp Scandinavian air bites at his flushed skin almost as soon as the door opens, and it feels so good Jason stops just past the door to close his eyes and just  _ breathe _ . Someone nudges his shoulder, and he must have been blocking the door, so he steps to the side. The nudging continues, though, and he opens his eyes to glower at the warrior. 

The warrior smiles that damned smile again, and in an unexpected move, pushes him backwards in an almighty shove. Jason hadn’t realized how close to the dock they were, something he regrets not paying more attention to with every fiber of his being as he’s engulfed by freezing water. Despite it technically being summer, this far north, it’s the difference between frozen solid and not.

Jason’s hands are still bound in front of him, and for a terrifying second, he’s afraid he’ll drown. Thankfully, his feet hit the rocky bottom before he can panic. After a moment of flailing, he’s able to stand up in the shallow water. The warrior is laughing, full-bodied guffaws, doing nothing to help his friend, who is fighting with Stephanie, the other captive. 

Jason doesn’t know why they brought her. She isn't a warrior or an Omega, merely a Beta stable hand, but the red-headed warrior seemed enthralled by her. She was pretty, he'd admit, but that isn’t exactly a benefit in this situation.

The female Alpha ends up simply picking her up and throwing her into the lake, ignoring her snarls and curses. 

She surfaces a moment later, spluttering indignantly. Jason offers her a look of solidarity before continuing to try and kill the laughing bastards with his glare alone.

It doesn’t work, and Jason is dragged from the water rather unceremoniously. The viking warriors chatter together while drying the two captives off, ignoring how they both pull away. It would be impressive how almost nothing seems to phase them if Jason weren’t so pissed. 

He finally snaps when the blue-eyed warrior tries to dry off his genitals, and for once the warrior actually listens, backing off. They toss the damp cloths to the side and give them two loose tunics to wear, which are just barely long enough to preserve their modesty. Jason’s is so tight in the shoulders that the blue-eyed warrior keeps shooting wary looks at the seams. 

A shout draws his attention back to the girls, where the red-headed warrior is trying to draw Stephanie away, pulling her deeper into the village.

"Hey! No, I'm staying with my friend!" She pulls against the hold the warrior has on her, though it's very clear who is stronger.

"Steph!" he calls out, making both of them pause. "It's okay. Fight where it counts, alright? But," he pauses, praying to god that the warriors really don't speak English, "but try to gain their trust where you can."

She's panicking—he can see it in her eyes—but she nods and starts backing towards her captor. "Don't die, okay?"

He laughs because he doesn't know how else to respond. Sometimes death is better than the alternative, after all. 

The blue-eyed warrior tugs him over to a bigger hut and pushes him inside. Three other warriors await them inside, although one looks alarmingly young. Between the four of them, Jason has to sit on the stool in the middle of the room. He has no other choice. 

That ends up being a mistake, and they all wince at the loud tearing of seams. 

As they yank his hair in every direction, he spots his sword—confiscated after the capture—leaning against the wall. It’s foolish to put him so close to his weapons, and he can’t help but wonder why they would risk it. And why the hell they were bothering with braiding his hair. 

The little warrior digs around in a trunk against the wall, eventually emerging with a pile of clothes Jason desperately hopes are for him. There’s no way his tunic survived.

He’s in luck, because they help him into a loincloth and trousers that are much stiffer than he is used to, though still better than the alternative. 

The smallest warrior jumps up and latches onto his back, holding a knife to his throat, which makes him go absolutely still. The threat is very, very clear and makes sense once they unbind his hands to pull the shirt on. It fits, luckily, and is almost loose in the shoulders—an unfamiliar sensation.

When they’re finished, he realizes they’ve braided his hair in their style and dressed him in their clothes. He’s not sure what to think of that. Is this how vikings treat their slaves? Is there something else going on?

It turns out that yes, there is something else going on. The blue-eyed warrior had left at some point with all of Jason’s weapons, and by the time he’s pushed out of the hut, the sun is starting its descent. 

The entire village has gathered around the entrance to the main longhouse, where it looks like all of the stolen goods from the raid have been placed against the wall. 

Glaring at the warrior pushing him towards the pile of goods, he snarls in protest when the warrior gestures for him to sit in the dirt next to a trunk full of fabric. It makes little difference, as the warrior whips out a small knife and holds it to Jason’s throat, making the threat quite clear. Jason sinks to the dirt by their feet. 

More people gather around, talking and pointing, laughing together about god-knows-what. Jason feels panic crawling up his throat every time one of them looks him over. Despite being dressed up in their clothes, he knows he is little more than an object to be bartered over in their eyes. 

Eventually, there’s a commotion and the crowd splits to reveal the red-headed warrior pushing Stephanie into the clearing, only to make her sit down next to him. She has been dressed in their clothes as well, though her dress is much more simple than his embroidered tunic and trousers. Her hair is down with no ornamentation. Jason doesn’t really want to know why there’s a difference; he has a feeling it isn’t anything good. 

She's silent where she sits, smelling bitter with fear. 

Jason nudges her with his shoulder and she leans back into him, taking comfort in the touch that's become familiar in the past week.

The door to the longhouse opens, and the crowd cheers as an absolutely terrifying man steps through. He’s tall, taller than most men Jason has seen, and definitely taller than himself. That alone is impressive, not counting the fact that every inch of him is packed with muscle, and the grace of his footsteps promises he is well trained. His eyes are a piercing blue, emphasized by the blackness of his hair, which is close-cropped on the sides with the top braided back tightly. 

After the tall man comes the blue-eyed warrior, who smiles and waves at the crowd before moving to the group of warriors Jason recognizes from the voyage over. Two more people exit the longhouse, both small and slim with dark hair, and Jason’s mind categorizes them as Omegas. 

He’s not positive who they all are, but it’s a safe bet the tall man is the chief and the rest are his family. Given how the little warrior moves to stand next to them, stance oh-so-similar to the tall man’s, it’s almost a guarantee.

The chief calls the crowd to attention, voice deep and carrying his words easily. Of course, Jason doesn’t have any clue as to what he is saying. 

He gestures to the group of warriors, who stand a bit taller and preen at the attention. After speaking for a few minutes, he gestures to the pile of goods with a broad sweep of his hand, and the people go  _ wild _ . Splitting down the middle, they reveal a massive pile of wood thirty meters away and a handful of people with torches start to light it. Once it gets going, it will be a truly impressive bonfire. 

The chief offers a booming shout, and then everyone settles down, a surprising number of people actually sit down in the dirt. 

Gesturing for the blue-eyed warrior to step forward, the chief speaks to the village people in a calm, smooth tone. If Jason has to guess, he’d say the chief is telling everyone about the raid, based on the number of times he points to the goods and the warriors standing behind the blue-eyed bastard.

It ends with one of the dark-haired Omegas stepping forward—a girl, from the looks of it—holding a bowl that she dips her fingers into before drawing a symbol on the warrior’s forehead with the thick, black  _ stuff _ . 

The chief says something else, handing the warrior one of the pelts and what looks like a bag of coin; gold or silver, it’s impossible to tell. 

To Jason’s surprise, it continues. Each of the warriors on the raid come forward for a mark from the girl and are handed something from the pile of goods. Weapons, money, tools, none of it is bartered over, no one complains, and when all of the warriors have been given gifts, some of the townsfolk are called forward. 

It’s absolutely bizarre. Jason’s not quite sure what to make of it. Time and time again, people are called forward and rewarded for whatever it is they’ve done to please the chief.

It goes on for  _ hours _ . 

Night has fully fallen, leaving them lit only by the fire. Jason’s ass has gone totally numb sitting in the dirt like he is. If they’re going to give him away as a slave, the least they could do is be courteous about it.

At long last, the final fur is given away and everyone perks up in interest. Most of them were starting to look as bored as Jason feels.

The warrior who had brought in Stephanie stands up and makes her way towards the chief, cheered on by her brothers-in-arms. 

Stephanie goes tense beside him.

The female Alpha speaks to the crowd, voice lilting and almost melodic. She turns to the small, dark-haired girl who had set aside her bowl of black paste after the warriors received their gifts. They speak back and forth for a bit, then the warrior comes over and gestures for Stephanie to get up. 

She's shaking so hard she can barely move, and Jason has to help push her up while murmuring words of encouragement and false promises. After all, it is more likely everything will _ not _ be okay. 

The small girl comes over, giving Jason a closer look at her and the intricate symbols painted across her face in red and black he hadn’t seen before. She also smells of nothing, making him doubt his initial evaluation of her being an Omega. 

Looking Stephanie over, she nods to the female warrior who bows in return. With a soft smile, she pulls out a knife and deftly cuts through the rope binding Stephanie's hands. She loops their arms together and gently encourages Stephanie to follow her away from the fire and attention, not that it stops the crowd from cheering and clapping and—bowing?

He doesn't have much time to wonder at it, as the blue-eyed warrior steps forward and gestures for silence. He does not speak to the crowd, turning instead to the chief and the Omega boy next to him. Several times he sweeps his hand in Jason's direction, and when he finishes, he pulls out Jason's sword and drops to one knee. 

The Omega steps forward, inspecting the blade, and then accepts it with a careful heft. Jason knows how heavy the thing is, and it's a wonder that the small man can lift it at all. 

He walks towards Jason, sword in hand, and the sweet scent of spring flowers catches Jason's attention. Definitely an Omega, though he holds himself with a confidence absent in the people from home. 

Stopping in front of Jason, he says something. The pause at the end indicates it's a question, but Jason has no idea what he asked, so he stays silent. 

The Omega pauses, tipping his head and eyeing Jason in consideration, then speaks again. "What is your name?"

“Jason,” he stutters out, gaping like a moron. He hadn’t expected any of them to know English. 

The Omega nods. "I am Timothy Drake, son of Bruce Wayne, who is chief of Gotham Isle. Do you understand what is happening?" 

There's not even a hint of accent. Jason scowls at Timothy's question. "I suspect that I am to be your slave."

A smile plays at Timothy's lips, making him look amused, and he dips his chin. "You have two options. You may choose to be my thrall and serve me for four years, at which point you will be freed, or you may choose to marry me. In two years' time, if you are still unhappy with the arrangement, we may divorce and you will be free of me then."

"Marry?" he asks, incredulous. "Why is that an option?"

Timothy gives a humorless smile. "I vowed to never take a spouse unless they were touched by the gods. My brother has found you to be a loophole and would see that I have a companion."

The whole deal still seems suspicious. "What's the difference between being your  _ thrall _ and being your husband?" he asks, not bothering to hide the wariness in his voice. 

Timothy laughs, loud and musical, obviously entertained. "As my thrall, you would not have to have sex with me, but would need to complete any other task I set before you. As my husband, sex would be required for consummation and heats, but you would be my partner and equal to any other man in this village, able to pick your trade and carry your own weapons."

Jason's face feels hot, and he knows he's blushing, but he fights to keep his expression neutral. "I must decide now?"

"Yes."

It's really not much of a decision. Four years of slavery or two years a free man married to a stranger? 

"I will accept your hand in marriage."

A slow smile splits Timothy's face. He holds out his free hand and says something in the language of the vikings. 

Another sword is placed in his outstretched hand by the chief, the hilt designed to look like a dragon holding the blade in its mouth. It is very clearly of English design and makes him wonder at the man he is marrying. 

"By my sword, I do free you from your bonds. May it protect you and stand between you and the face of death, and should you perish, may it take you to the feasts of Valhalla," Timothy says. "Your sword, I shall carry, just as I shall carry our children, such that they might one day bear it." 

The crowd  _ erupts _ when Timothy cuts through the ropes binding his wrists, louder than they had been at any point before. Someone produces a sow, strategically placed with a bucket in front of it, which catches the blood when they slit its throat. 

Jason just watches in horror, and it's only when he's being splattered with still-warm blood that he wonders what, exactly, has he gotten himself into.

* * *

Two years later he holds Tim in his sleep, watching the moonlight play across his mate’s face, and wonders at how he thought this marriage could last anything less than a lifetime.

**Author's Note:**

> As an aside, the reason Jason was getting hit with a branch in the beginning of the story is that it is part of the traditional sauna experience. Sweat in the hot, steamy room for a bit, smack yourself with a birch branch to relax muscles and stimulate the skin, then douse yourself with cold water. (Or get pushed in a lake. That works too)
> 
> My headcannon for Tim (that didn’t make the fic) is that his father was an English Lord who traded him to Bruce in exchange for not getting raided (under the impression Tim would become a thrall/concubine), not realizing that Bruce is relatively merciful, and that the sight of a fearful, tearful, neglected baby Timmy would inspire Bruce to adopt him instead. Two years later, Tim leads a raid on his former home that ends in his father dead and him in possession of his family sword, which also allows a new Lord to take over who is less corrupt. 
> 
> Stephanie was captured by Babs, because Babs saw how she calmed horses in the stable during the raid and thought she’d be a good friend/companion for Cass. So, snatch!
> 
> (And the wedding was fabulous, for those who were wondering ❤️)


End file.
